Misunderstandings
by Trickster-Prophet
Summary: Carlos says the wrong thing and now he has to fix everything.


**A/N: Request!ficfor someone who wanted Carlos getting a bit freaked out by all the strange stuff/happenings in Night Vale and telling Cecil, and then Cecil getting upset because he thinks Carlos means ****_him_****. **

It takes Carlos a while to get what's wrong with Cecil. At first he thinks that he's sick; he seems quieter than before; more subdued, and his appearance, which had been quite out there by normal human standards has calmed down until really, he just looks like a normal guy. Admittedly, he is still unusually skinny, but gone are the tentacles and the third eye; and even the strange tattoos that cover his skin and move around at will seem to have become shy; they remain hidden under Cecil's clothing. Also, Cecil stops showing him around Night Vale and pointing out all the strange things that he finds interesting or fascinating.

It takes Carlos a while to get it, but when he does, it smacks him in the face, and goes on smacking him for several minutes. He can remember the words coming out of his mouth, stupid and thoughtless and unintentionally hurtful, "It's just, everything here, it's not normal to me…and it can get a bit…overwhelming sometimes." Carlos can even remember the look that flickered across Cecil's face, just for a second, that look of hurt and confusion that he quickly banished and replaced with a sympathetic smile.

"I'm such an idiot." He mutters, sinking into a chair and putting his head in his hands. The Faceless Old Woman who lives in his house floats past him, sniggering. "Shut up." He grumbles and throws a book at her. It doesn't make him feel any better. He contemplates just calling Cecil and apologising but after some thought, Carlos realises something. He needs to do this in person. He has to ask for forgiveness.

Mind made up, Carlos picks up his jacket from the back of the chair and leaves the house, slamming the door on the Faceless Old Woman's sniggering.

Carlos drives to the radio station and sits in his car in the car park, waiting. He's only been out there a few minutes when someone knocks on the passenger window, and a few seconds later, Intern Dana opens the door and slides into the passenger seat.

"Hey." She says, looking him up and down, "What chased you out of your house in such a hurry?"

"I'm an ass." He replies, slumping forward.

"What did or didn't you do this time?" Dana asks, rolling her eyes and flicking a few of her braids over her shoulder in a flurry of clicking glass beads.

"I told Cecil that I found all this, y'know, Night Vale and such, how I found it strange and overwhelming, and he thinks I mean him." Carlos admits, feeling ashamed, "So I guess I have to apologise now."

"I would." Dana agrees, "Sooner rather than later or he'll just let it eat him up inside."

"You're not making me feel any better." Carlos points out, giving her a reproachful glance.

"It's a skill." Dana laughs, flicking her braids again, "Come on, he'll be off the air soon."

The two of them leave Carlos' car and head towards the Radio Station building, Dana walking in front of Carlos, her high-heeled boots clicking on the ground and her beads clicking.

When they enter the station, Cecil is still on air, so Carlos uses needing to visit the bathroom as an excuse to get a moment to himself. Koshekh mews at him as he enters, and Carlos smiles at the cat. He likes Koshekh, the cat is always pleased to see him, purring and rubbing his chin against Carlos' hand affectionately. Carlos stares blankly down at the cat, his mind whirling. What is he supposed to say to Cecil? 'Sorry I said you were weird, I take it back'? He'd sound like an idiot.

"Carlos?"

Carlos looks up abruptly. Cecil is standing in the doorway, hair mussed like he's been running his hands through it, a confused expression painted across his face.

"Hey." Carlos wipes his hands on his pants and takes a step towards Cecil, "I, uh, wanted to talk to you." He adds a little lamely.

"Okaaay…" Cecil sounds a little confused at this, tipping his head to the side and stretching out the word.

"Look," Carlos steps forward and takes Cecil's hands in his, "I said something a few days ago and I realise now that I hurt you."

Cecil gives him an innocent look, "I don't know what you're talking about." He insists.

"You do." Carlos runs a thumb gently over the back of Cecil's hand, and smiles gently when the tip of a tattoo appears from under Cecil's sleeve, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean you. I never meant you. You're perfect the way you are, please, please never change." Carlos whispers softly, looking up to meet Cecil's eyes – all three of them.

"It's alright." Cecil whispers back, and he's smiling, properly smiling, not the empty shadow Carlos has been seeing recently.

And then they're hugging each other and Carlos might be crying a little but it's okay. And Cecil wraps his arms tight around Carlos and if he's hugging him with tentacles too; it's okay. And when they step back from each other, Cecil's tattoos are swirling around his hands and forearms, and one has crawled its way onto his face. Cecil's hair is ruffled, his bowtie is askew and he's grinning like a fool. He turns that grin on Carlos, who is feeling less guilty by the moment. It's going to be okay. He can hardly believe it.

"Dinner?" Cecil offers, holding out a hand to Carlos.

"Lets." Agrees Carlos.

He catches his reflection on his way out of the bathroom; hair dishevelled, checks damp with tears, and grinning like a fool before Cecil drags him out, already voicing the debate on what food is a good idea for dinner, pizza or pasta. Carlos feels like he might just be the happiest person alive.


End file.
